


To kiss the stars between your eyes

by FreakCityPrincess



Series: A Vast Enough Galaxy [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Badass (Implied) Rebelcaptain, Badass War Couple is better, Bedsharing, Bodhi Rook Needs a Hug, Caffeine Addiction, Cassian Andor needs a hug and I'm giving it to him, Cassian POV, F/M, Feelings Realization, Gen, Heavy Angst, Humour, Imperial Occupation, Jyn operates on caf and punching people, Kaytoo needs to chill, Light Angst, Missions, Moments between missions, Preparation for undercover, Stakeouts, but squint hard to find any real romance, no really I'm bad at it, so have some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-05-27 05:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15017312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakCityPrincess/pseuds/FreakCityPrincess
Summary: The hyperspace leg from Corellia to Hoth is exhausting and without incident. Stakeout at night on desert worlds is draining and feels- for all his patience acquired over the years- futile.But for the first time, he has other life forms to work with on missions, and Kaytoo has other people to bug with his statistics.In the middle of this thankless war, Cassian struggles to keep his policy of detachment even as his crew repeatedly proves themselves loyal and he finds himself falling into an abyss that his trusty droid helpfully calls "inconvenient organic feelings".





	1. (Re)Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is only an introduction. More coming soon!

_[ENCRYPTED: ENTER ENCRYPTION KEY]_

_[PROCESSING KEY]_

_[CONFIRM IDENTIFICATION]_

_[PROCESSING FINGERPRINT. PLEASE WAIT...]_

_[ACCESS GRANTED. WELCOME, **Captain.** ]_

To: Andor, Cassian 

Subject: Temporary Task Force Assignment 

Captain Andor. 

It has not escaped my notice that the Princess or Senator Mothma informed you before the assignment became official, but there was little I could say at yesterday's debrief. 

Here is my advice. 

Jyn Erso and the rest of the team that recently enlisted are not being court-martialed only because the Princess and several others (with regard to the general Alliance body rather than High Command) feel it would be a grave injustice considering what their actions ultimately achieved for us. 

They are being given a chance to redeem themselves in the eyes of those who do not share this opinion. Command is split over the decision. It will only take one screw-up before the team is decommissioned and sent into different roles, where I can't guarantee any sort of interaction will take place among its members. If the screw-up is bad, they could still face court-martial for Scarif. 

I would wholly agree with the precarious position Erso's _unit_ now finds themselves in if you yourself haven't been assigned to it. 

For your own sake, I advice that you keep your head down. Do exactly as Command instructs. Most importantly, keep Erso and our new additions in check. 

You will continue to serve Intelligence and the operations under my division will at times separate you from your new team. It would do good to leave a responsible and experienced Alliance officer from your crew in charge. 

Rogue One- if you still wish to go by that name, though it would serve you better to change it- will operate independent of the Base for as long as Command deems necessary. You will therefore be required to appropriately ground yourselves and fulfill your requirements without expending Alliance resources. However, I don't recommend letting Erso or the Guardians out of your sights for long. 

It may also be of interest to you that Erso has requested to assist under my division, specifically as your partner should you ever need one.

I have not erased her request from the servers yet. Having another Intelligence operative within your mobile task force could prove convenient, but it is your call to make, and I strictly advice against it. 

No more disregarding orders or room for improvisation. You will do exactly as instructed, Captain, if you know what's best for your team and yourself. 

My regards, 

D. Draven. 

_[SENDER'S SIGNATURE: #0399D.]_

_[SENDER'S BRANCH: ******]_

_**[ENTER SECURITY KEY TO REPLY]**_


	2. Isn't She Something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short interlude between the fifth and sixth chapters of [ Giving Consent to Fate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082464/chapters/27379755).
> 
> No harm if you haven't read it, though; the general context is that Rogue One (including Serchill) have escaped Scarif and now find themselves low on fuel and in urgent need of medical help, for Chirrut and Bodhi especially. Cassian too, it's turning out; he's just been stubborn about it thus far. But bacta treatment is a luxury on Marlika and they can't go back to the Alliance. The current mission objective is to strike a deal with one of the local gangleaders for the credits they need. 
> 
> Nesra is a Festian native, and a junior intelligence operative who reports to Cassian.

**_Interlude_ **

_ACT I: Isn't she something?_

Marlika had a natural mechanism that drained the floods caused by its torrential rainstorms, so without the drainage systems built into the Imperial-run territories the water was seeping into the plain rock by afternoon, giving the landscape a smooth, glazed-over look observable from the U-Wing's viewports.

"Won't take us long to get there," Bodhi was saying in the cockpit, where he'd curled up in the co-pilot's seat, directing Serchill's unpracticed piloting. "See, this stretch is completely free of any traffic, and if we redirect here we'll be in Imperial airspace but we don't have to do that because- no, don't jam the thrusters like that! It's not...not good for the ship, and we're low on fuel already-"

A few vocal expletives came from the cockpit as the ship tilted to a side, slightly, skittishly, while Serchill readjusted steering for maximum fuel conservation. He wasn't perfect, but he hadn't gotten them killed yet and Bodhi was proving to be a patient teacher. Listen and envision from the empty hold of the ship was all Cassian could do not to feel useless during their journey. 

He should be the one piloting their ship. _He'd_ caused this, all of this; he couldn't back away now, even if it was without a doubt the best course of action in his current physical state. The pain that seared through his bruised, beaten back was still insistent, enough to be a distraction from the downward spiral of guilt and dread that had plagued him since they escaped the Death Star by a hair's breadth. 

It was still unbelievable. Surreal.

The more he thought about it, the more it clawed at his conscience, and it was far better to focus on the physical strain here and now than the lives lost on Scarif. 

He looked up to the sound of approaching boots. 

"Thought I might find you here," said Nesra in a conversational tone, carefully lowering herself onto the bench beside him. He dully made this observation; Nesra was by no means a careful person, and if she had thought as far as this, the amount of pain he was in had to be written all over his face. 

"Your muscles are going to freeze up if you keep that stiff face on all the time."

Or maybe he'd trained her better at reading people than he'd thought. Cassian huffed in acknowledgement. 

The ship rocked gently, enough so that he felt her slight weight against his shoulder for a brief moment before it was gone. He remembered their embrace the previous night; was she here to return the favour? 

"I'll survive," he said dismissively. 

The girl snorted. "I know you will. I know you don't like to be babied, either, so that's not what I'm going to do."

The rest of the hold was empty. Chirrut and Baze were on the level above, taking rest or attending to injuries, and Jyn had retreated to the U-Wing's only habitable cabin. The ship was quiet save for the occasional voices of Serchill and Bodhi, and the wind and noise filtered from outside.

Nesra elbowed him lightly- very lightly- in the ribs. The first vestiges of a playful grin crept onto her face.

"So," she said casually. "Are you going to tell me about your new partner without trying to distract me, or am I going to have to needle it out of someone else?"

If there was ever an insufferable aspect of working with junior agents- it was this. 

"I thought I already did," replied Cassian, nonchalant.

"What you _did_ was effectively distract me from the question. That's not going to happen again." She settled back against the wall, grinning in full effect. "For starters, where did you pick her up from?"

"The details of a mission that is confidential."

"Banthashit."

"Wobani," amended Cassian, only to immediately wonder why he was entertaining this discussion at all.

Nesra winced. "I don't suppose you were off to a very good start, then."

It was distracting. From the pain, from the reality of their situation, the dying breaths of his comrades above the hold. "I suppose not."

Nesra kept prodding. "So what is she? Freelance operative, or official agent? Someone undercover you had to extract? Though I can't imagine what the Alliance would gain out of stationing someone on Wobani."

So far from and close to the truth at the same time, events that had only been weeks ago but already felt like an eternity.

"There's not much I can tell you," he told her honestly, and not. 

He had read the history on Jyn's file. He knew where her parents had come from, who they were, what they'd done in their lifetimes. He knew she had been raised in the midst of Saw Gerrera's radicalism, knew she hadn't embraced the idea of rebellion for any reason other than survival. He'd read up on the chain of events, vague in description as they were, that had ended her in an Imperial labour camp. These were things on a file accessible to agents with clearance, and he could easily pass Nesra that clearance as well.

He knew Jyn fought gracefully, that her movements were quick, effective and lethal. He knew she could handle truncheons and made a good shot with a blaster. He knew she could climb, when she had do, knew she could make herself disappear, vanish behind a different identity, if her survival or the goal of the day called for it. He knew that her smile was a rare, fleeting image that lingered in the back of his mind still, and he knew what the skin of her palms, the rough fabric of her sleeves felt like against his back.

He knew that Nesra, whom he'd worked with for a long time, who was the only person besides Kay to have seen more than a few aspects of his self, could tell that the way he looked at Jyn Erso was...different. Cassian couldn't tell what way that was, exactly- and he didn't want to label it, because while Jyn was respectable enough by his books, he didn't want to consciously admire her or grow attached. She would leave, eventually, whether it was by her own will or otherwise, and after this ordeal was over he would return to the Alliance and continue doing the deeds that had driven him to Scarif in the first place. He would continue down that path for as long as the rebellion required it, and he didn't expect her to follow. 

Nesra narrowed her eyes. "Okay, you're good. You're giving off a very strong unaffected vibe here. But I _know_ something is up."

"Do you?" asked Cassian. 

The girl groaned, lifting her eyes to the ceiling in annoyance. When she looked back at him, she appeared to be stubbornly clinging to a belief.

" _Yes._ I mean- it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. She's pretty. Probably has a whole bunch of very attractive traits that I don't know about, because you're not telling me." 

The spy leaned back against the bulkhead, straightening his strained back to accommodate the new angle. He glanced at her from the corner of an eye, eyebrow raising the barest fraction. 

Nesra crossed her arms. "Well, whatever. You weren't going to give me a straight answer anyway."

Despite himself, Cassian had to drop his chin to avoid the small smile that threatened to slip between his lips.

"This contact of yours," he started, hating to dour the mood but knowing that it was better to be safe than sorry, "Did he want to know why you sought a connection?"

The humour in the girl's eyes faded. Her smile grew tight. "He asked if I was looking to join them or if it was a one-time thing, for the credits."

"And how much are they willing to give someone with no grounds to remain loyal?"

"Yeah," Nesra shook her head, a little frustrated and irked with herself. "They...well, it's entirely possible they'll just double-cross us once the job is done than part with their precious credits, normally, but..."

"But we're out of options."

" _No!_ I mean, yes, we _are,_ that's why we're going to the local gangs in the first place, but I don't take uncalcualted risks."

"Hey." Cassian made no move to reach out for her, but his voice was commanding, _magnetic,_ but more insistent than scolding. She couldn't help but meet his gaze and find herself stuck.

_Someday,_ she thought dryly, _I'm going to learn how to do that._

"I'm not questioning you," said Cassian. "I'm not doubting your work, Nesra. You wouldn't have made it this far if you weren't a good agent."

She swallowed, eyes widening fractionally; a part of her buzzed from a studden burst of pride, accomplishment, excitement, even- another part of her braced for the punchline that was coming. 

"I just want your estimation of how they'll try to double-cross us and what we can do to ensure we still walk away with those credits," and...there was no punchline. 

"My...I can do that, yeah," she replied in a hurry to cover up any relief that might've shone too obviously. Then, with a dry chuckle, "Kay would do also do decent job, though. How much did he hate being left behind this time?"

If she hadn't been paying close attention, she would have missed the way his jaw clenched, and his fists reflexively tightened. Missed that her handler's entire frame tensed up, every muscle locked for a split second before his neutral face slipped back on. But it was enough. 

Her own heart was hammering against her ribs. 

"Cassian? Where's Kay?"

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, to dismiss the inquiry, but no words came to him.

Nesra felt a heavy pitfall of dread start to settle at the bottom of her stomach. "Cassian."

"Gone." He turned to her, expression carefully blank. "He's gone. I'm sorry."

She heard her own sharp intake of breath before she felt it.

"I don't want to lose anyone else today," said Cassian, continuing as if he hadn't just told her that Kay as _gone._ His voice didn't crack. His eyes weren't swelling the way hers were. "So our plan has to be perfect to every last detail. And between the two of us?"

_Kriff. Kriff, kriff, kriff._ Her vision was getting blurry. What the hell? She couldn't, not right now, not in front of her handler and Commanding Officer who had just called her a competent agent. 

Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder and looked at her like he couldn't see her glaring weaknesses. His voice was lowered when he spoke. "There's no agent I'd rather have to help me plan this."

_Kriff it._ She scrubbed hard at her eyes, once, twice, before looking back at him with a determined glare. "Yes sir."

"I can't join you on the ground. I'll be a liability. You have to keep your ears and eyes open on behalf of both of us, and," he released her shoulder to reach behind him on the bench, "I want you to have this."

She had to force steel into her gaze as he held the blaster out for her.

His A280-CSE, the one that could be reconfigured as a sniper rifle, bearing an illegal silencer. He'd had the thing for as long she'd known him. 

Nesra took it from his hands with only a shudder of hesitance. She was otherwise just off-balance and overwhelmed, her vision still shimmering at the edges but clearer than before.

He _believed_ in her. 

He had every chance to assign her to someone else, make her and the Marlika sector assignment somebody else's problem, but he chose to train her and treat her like...like his protége, almost.

"Nesra," Cassian sounded grave, his serious eyes drilling into hers, making it impossible to look away. But she didn't want to look away. She wanted to look her Commanding Officer in the eye and show him he wasn't making a mistake by entrusting her with this mission. "Some people to whom I owe my life will be going down there, to negotiate with a group of very dangerous people. I trust you to lead the negotiations. Can you do that?"

"I can. Sir."

She wished she didn't see the physical pain from his injuries behind the real smile she got from him.

But they weren't used to this...this stiff formality. Cassian seemed to be going with it out of a sense of responsibility, and he _was_ a senior operative, but this wasn't them. 

Nesra treated him to the most ridiculous shit-eating grin she could muster at will on short notice. 

"I won't let Jyn start a fight. Promise."

As hoped, Cassian snorted loudly, but there was an easiness to his posture that wasn't there before. "I'll take your word for it."

Nesra crossed her arms as if annoyed. "You are a very difficult person to tease."

"If you want to bait me," said Cassian mildly, humour around his eyes ( _finally!_ ). "You're going to have to be a little more creative."

"Creative," echoed Nesra. "You want me to be creative? Fine. Just you wait till I get to know Jyn a little better. I promise you, you're going to regret this."

Cassian dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I expect nothing less."

Nesra broke into a grin again. He was only humouring her, she knew; he wouldn't give himself away whether or not he liked Jyn. Still, she had a sneaking suspicion that he did, and now that he'd invited her to go to town with it- she would. Oh, she absolutely would. 

A little selfishly, Nesra wished that the Alliance would never assign him for too long a period very far from Marlika or remove him from the assignment altogether because his work was important, and he was needed elsewhere. When she had fled her home planet in the wake of the Empire's invasion- afraid, lonely, starving- and when she'd lied about her age and enlisted with the Alliance out of a newfound burning hatred for the people responsible for her family's death, her planet's fate- she had never in her wildest daydreams expected to find a family again. Yet somehow, maybe through the ways of the Force or sheer coincidence, when the rebellion had given her an agent to report to, he'd been Festian, and they'd...sort of stuck together.

Cassian didn't allow himself attachments, she'd always known. It was too dangerous for him, too many liabilities to have, and she berated herself for sometimes thinking that maybe she was an exception, that he also saw her as family. 

"Nesra?" Cassian said, a little serious again. "Don't forget to look out for yourself, too."

Sometimes it wasn't too hard to believe that he did. 


End file.
